


What's Right

by backtoblack101



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-15 22:18:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3464123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backtoblack101/pseuds/backtoblack101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I think there’s no such thing as an improper love and I think if the war taught us one thing it’s that even if there is there’s not enough time to worry over it because it could be gone in a second and we’d miss our chance forever.”</p><p>In which Peggy tries desperately to ignore her feelings and it's up to Angie to help her follow her heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's Right

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first fic i've written in a while so i'm afraid i could be a little rusty. I've just been reading so much Peggy and Angie fic recently though I couldn't help myself.

When Peggy finally finished her case work for the evening and turned off her desk lamp the only light left dancing off the solid oak desk in the study came from the street lights outside Howard Starks mansion. Well, her and Angie’s mansion now. She reclined slowly in the plush leather chair (“A leather covering on an office chair?” “Mr Stark is a man of luxury Ms Carter.” “Howard has more money than sense, that’s all there is to it Mr Jarvis.”) and let the sound of the radio in the next room seep into her consciousness.

“… And that’s why Sanka Coffee’s new decaffeinated brand and improved flavour is right for YOU!” A man’s voice insisted so enthusiastically you’d swear Sanka had single handily established world peace. “And now we’re back with ‘Heartaches’ by Ted Weems.” The song began, upbeat and scratchy through the speakers.

Even without looking at her watch Peggy felt safe in guessing it was already well after eleven, and with the radio still playing that led her to presume one thing; Angie had fallen asleep again while listening to her favourite shows. It wasn’t exactly what Peggy would call a regular occurrence, especially now that Angie didn’t have to work as much and therefore came home exhausted far less frequently, though it was still something Peggy was used to after three months of living with the aspiring star. So much so that Peggy had the sleeves of her pristine linen shirt rolled up around her elbows before she left the office, in preparation for having to carry the young woman to her room.

When she stepped into the small living room (why Howard needed multiple living rooms varying in size was beyond her) that lay adjacent to the study she did in fact find her friend lying asleep, her feet curled up beneath her, a blanket folded across her lap, and her head tilted back against the headrest of the armchair.

Peggy smiled and took a mental picture of the moment before she crossed the room; ever since she’d let go of Steve and opened up to Angie about her work and the war and the real Captain America she’d begun to feel differently towards the waitress.

It was a feeling she ignored at first, naturally.

She ignored it because it was the smart thing to do, and Peggy had always considered herself smart. She ignored it because it was the decent and proper thing to do, and her parent’s had always taught her to be decent and proper. She ignored it because at first she considered it the right thing to do and Steve had taught her that no matter what you were risking you must always do the right thing.

Steve had taught her more than that though, and it wasn’t until a month after she’d poured a vile of his blood into the river that she’d realised Steve had also taught her the right thing wasn’t always the obvious thing, sometimes the right thing was doing something that wasn’t necessarily considered right by the majority.

For Steve it had been ignoring Colonel Phillips command in order to save Bucky and the rest of the 107th, and for Peggy Carter it was throwing caution to the wind and allowing herself to fall for Angie Martinelli in spite of what law or public opinion may dictate.

Not that she’d ever say it out loud. Instead she crossed the room and crouched down in front of the arm chair, watching the slow rise and fall of her friend’s chest. It was one thing being in love with a woman, something Peggy had never imagined for herself in spite of her quick fumbles in boarding school and during the early years of the war, but it would be another thing entirely to say it out loud and risk what might happen next.

Yes, it was one thing to love a woman, another thing entirely to let oneself be persecuted for it.

“Do I’ve somthin’ on my face?” Angie’s voice was low and playful and enough to startle Peggy from her thoughts.

“No, I don’t think you do, why?” Peggy replied, her face cracking into a smile when Angie opened her eyes to look at her.

“Jus’ you’ve been staring at it for a while now English.” Angie’s smile mirrored Peggy’s and she shifted in the chair to enable herself a better look at the English-woman’s face.

“Deciding whether to leave you here to wake with a stiff neck, or whether to take pity on you and put you to bed,” Peggy replied, not missing a beat, never allowing herself to fall into the trap of revealing her feelings.

“Here was me thinkin’ you were gonna kiss me,” Angie teased.

Peggy rolled her eyes. She’d been getting comments like that a lot from Angie recently; innocent teasing lines that always gave Peggy hope, yet never managed to give her courage.

“Wouldn’t that be quite something,” she snorted ineloquently after a moment, rising off her hunkers so she was looking down at Angie now instead, this simple power play allowing her a sense of control over the situation.

“It just might be English, it just might be.” Angie seemed to be studying her, and Peggy felt compelled to change the subject.

“Why are you still out here anyway if you weren’t asleep?”

“You’ve been working late all week,” Angie shrugged. “And when you do come home it’s straight into that office of yours. Immah tell Mr Stark to put a lock on that door next time he’s over,” she warned, her tone not entirely teasing. “So I figured I’d stay up until you were done so we could catch up. I’m startin’ to forget what you look like y’know.”

For some reason Peggy thought of Agent Dooley when Angie said this. She knew his marriage had been falling apart and she wondered briefly if in the early days his wife had ever stayed up and waited on him to finish writing reports.

Not that her and Angie were familiar like that.

Not that they ever would be.

“Don’t you have work in the morning?” Peggy asked instead, still not liking the way Angie stared at her (or perhaps liking it too much).

“I pulled the close shift. I ain’t in ‘til late.” Angie waved her hand dismissing the question. “And I picked up some schnapps on the way home from that audition earlier,” she added, reaching down to the side of the armchair and pulling the bottle up.

Peggy sighed. She could feel the exhaustion stinging her eyeballs and she was afraid alcohol would only make it worse. Angie’s face was positively beaming though and she knew she didn’t stand a chance.

“I’ll get two glasses then I suppose.”

-.-.-.-

When Peggy returned from the kitchen Angie had relocated herself, and was now curled into a corner of the couch, her hand patting the cushion beside her when Peggy walked back into the room.

Peggy knew only too well that sitting that close wasn’t a good idea though. Angie’s toes peeked out from under her blanket and Peggy imagined them tickling the side of her leg as she sat ridged next to her. She imagined the same toes stretching out slowly until Angie had her legs thrown over Peggy’s lap. She imagined that once inebriated Angie’s hand would run through her hair and her nails would scratch soothing lines across her scalp.

She imagined lunging forward and pulling Angie’s face towards her. She imagined catching a fistful of the waitresses golden brown hair and tugging it as their teeth nipped one another’s bruised lips. She imagined the swell of her breast under her palm and the feeling of moisture clinging to her fingers as they flexed under Angie’s pinafore.

She’d have kept imagining too, only for Angie’s voice pulling her back to earth. “Jeez English, first you stare at my face now you’re starin’ into space. You okay t’night?”

“Quite.” Peggy cleared her throat. ”I’m quite alright, just thinking about work.” She’d been trained in espionage and the lie came easy to her as she crossed the room and sat on the far side of the couch.

What didn’t come so easy though was the weight of the lie. Government leaders and army colonels, sure, lying to them had never bothered her if it meant getting the job done. Lying to Angie though felt like a slow knife in the gut every time, even if it was only for her own good.

“Well as much as I’m sure bein’ a government agent can be a lot to think about, I’m also sure you’ve been thinkin’ about it for long enough today Pegs,” Angie scolded. “So just for now, just for these few drinks, no shop talk.” Peggy smiled at Angie’s stern look and nodded. “Good. Now quit hogging those glasses.”

Peggy moved to extend the hand holding the glasses in Angie’s direction, though her housemate had already scooted towards her on the couch, bringing the blanket with her and throwing it over both their laps before curling into Peggy’s side and accepting the crystal glass from the agent’s hand.

For a second Peggy went absolutely ridged, though she didn’t have time to protest the proximity because Angie was already thrusting a glass of schnapps into Peggy’s hand and taking the second empty glass to fill for herself.

After a moment Angie sighed, placed the schnapps bottle on the floor and melted even further into Peggy’s arm. “Okay I’m ready…” she sighed contently, before launching into a story about her audition.

-.-.-.-

Peggy liked to think she was rational and level headed when it came to all aspects of her life. She’d proven herself wrong when she’d punched Howard Stark in the face for keeping a vile of Steve’s blood from her though, and since that incident she had decided for the sake of remaining truthful to oneself to instead label herself rational and level headed in _most_ aspects of her life; Steve being her Achilles heel.

Then she’d gotten a dead arm due to Angie’s head resting against it, and thought the best resolve to this issue would be to wrap it around Angie’s shoulder instead, letting her fingers toy with stray curls that lay there.

Then her legs had begun to ache and when she’d stretched them Angie suggested she lie herself across the couch instead, which was of course perfectly logical and so they’d both readjusted, with Peggy lying across the couch with her head on the armrest and her arm still around Angie as the waitress lay herself out sideways next to the agent with her head resting on Peggy’s shoulder.

Then Angie’s hand glided across Peggy’s stomach and tickled up her side and back down again, drawing silly nonsensical shapes and Peggy had realised that perhaps Steve wasn’t her Achilles heel, perhaps it was simply all those that held a place in her heart.

“We should go to bed,” Peggy murmured eventually, their conversation having died a while ago.

“We’re only half ways through the schnapps,” Angie argued, her fingers leaving Peggy’s side in order to retrieve the bottle from the floor to prove the point.

“Exactly, and lord help us if we were to polish it off.” Peggy had felt her brain become foggy since she’d started her second glass, and didn’t like to think how much more compromising her and Angie’s seating arrangement would become if she were to allow that haze to become fuelled by a third.

A small huff of protest passed Angie’s lips and she buried her head in closer to Peggy’s neck. “You ain’t any fun English,” she complained, her words low and breathy and tingling as they travelled down Peggy’s collar and caused her to shiver.

She closed her eyes and silently cursed her body for giving her away. Perhaps Angie hadn’t felt it though, or perhaps she considered it to be a movement unrelated to the hot breath she’d just produced against Peggy’s neck.

Of course one of the many ill-advised things Peggy had done at the beginning of their friendship was underestimate Angie, and now was no different, when another hot breath ran across the column of her neck. This one was deliberate though, a breath of air pushed out from between a pair of lips quirked in an almost innocent smile.

“Ticklish are we?” Angie’s voice was low and so close to Peggy’s ear that this time it was the ghosting of lips that gave cause to Peggy’s shudder.

“Cold,” Peggy replied instead, insisting on a lie even though she felt her cover was long blown.

“When we’d been livin’ here a week,” Angie began, seemingly un-phased by the lie Peggy had just told. “You were standin’ at the kitchen counter and I brushed passed you to reach for a cup and you almost jumped clean outta your skin English.” Her lips had practically curled around Peggy’s ear at this point and her breath still travelled south down her neck causing Peggy to squirm ever so slightly in a bid to remain in control. “I guessed then that you might like me the same way I like you but I couldn’t be sure and with you workin’ for the government I couldn’t risk gettin’ too familiar in case you threw me in a jail cell so I decided the best thing to do would be to go on my own secret mission ‘nd see if I could figure you out.”

She paused there for so long Peggy eventually felt compelled to respond. “And have you?” Her voice was softer than intended though she still managed to keep it steady.

“Three weeks ago when you were liftin’ me to bed I woke up ‘nd felt you kissin’ my forehead before you left.” Peggy shut her eyes tight at this and silently cursed her lack of self-control. “And a week and a half ago you made me breakfast in bed when I was feelin’ poorly, and you called me three times from work, and took a long lunch to come home to see me, and didn’t take any paperwork home that night so you could sit and read to me.” As she told this portion of her story Angie raised her head from Peggy’s side and looked down at her instead, waiting until Peggy opened her eyes to finish. “And two nights ago when I told you I got that part in a commercial the way you looked at me I could just tell… I could tell you wanted to kiss me as much as I wanted to kiss you.”

“But I can’t,” Peggy insisted before Angie had a chance to do something Peggy feared they’d both regret. “And neither can you.”

“Because society says it’s wrong and improper.” Angie nodded in agreement. “And because it’d make us sinners in the eyes of the lord.”

“Exactly.” Peggy nodded slowly, though the more she stared into Angie’s vibrant, enthusiastic eyes, the less convincing her nod became.

“Y’know what I think Peggy Carter?” Angie whispered eventually, having paused momentarily to gather her thoughts.

“What’s that then?”

“I think there’s no such thing as an improper love and I think if the war taught us one thing it’s that even if there was there’s not enough time to worry over it because it could be gone in a second and we’d miss our chance forever.”

Just like that Peggy was thinking of a skinny kid from Brooklyn, not much more imposing than Angie in stature, who’d been gone in an instant as well, lost in snow and ice before she’d even taught him how to dance. That thought didn’t hurt like it used to though, and it hurt even less with Angie’s warmth against her side and her moss green eyes boring deep into her skull.

“I suppose this is the part where you try your luck at kissing me then?” She questioned after a moment, trying to keep her voice light to lift the tension.

“Luck,” Angie scoffed. “This ain’t about luck, English, this is about you knowin’ that there’s someone out there that loves you, and someone that’s willin’ to sit up at night waitin’ on you to finish work, and is willin’ to make you breakfast in the mornin’.” Angie paused and a smile of adoration washed across her. “And this is about you knowin’ that there’s always gonna be someone there to look after The Captain’s best girl.”

Peggy had always wondered what really moving on from Steve would be like, and when Angie’s lips enveloped her own in a kiss slow, and steady, and promising, she knew it wouldn’t be that bad at all, whether society agreed with it or not.


End file.
